A Promise to Love (9 page)

“You scrubbed the floor,” Joshua said. “You didn't have to do that.”

He had noticed. She smiled modestly down at her plate.

She was enormously pleased with how this day was going. She intended to astonish Joshua with his well-ordered home.

As odd as it felt coming home to see a stranger presiding over his wife's kitchen, Joshua certainly couldn't fault the woman's work ethic. An enormous burden had been lifted from his shoulders today at noon. He had come home for dinner and found the cabin filled with productive domestic activity, and his children were not cross with each other for a change. Agnes had even smiled a couple of times while they ate, and he had not seen his oldest daughter smile since she had lost her mother.

By the grace of God, he was once again free to work his land. The children were being well cared for. Life was far from perfect, but it was survivable . . . until he walked into the cabin in the late afternoon and smelled the familiar scent of his wife's perfume wafting from within their bedroom.

The sweet smell of roses brought such a flood of memories that it nearly brought him to his knees. It was as though his wife were physically present . . . tangible . . . waiting for him in their bedroom, just beyond the half-closed door.

He managed to walk through that door and found Ingrid going through his wife's things.

The top drawer of Diantha's bureau was open and empty, and various articles of her clothing were stacked in small piles on the bed. The precious bottle of his wife's perfume sat on the dresser.

And Ingrid reeked of it.

He was usually a patient man, slow to anger, but the sight of this immigrant girl pawing through his wife's things threw him into such an instantaneous rage, he wanted to slam her against the wall. The woman smelled as though she had bathed in Diantha's perfume. Was she too stupid to know any better? Or did she think he'd fall in love with her if she wore enough of his wife's scent?

“What do you think you're doing, you stupid cow?” Without realizing it, he repeated the very same hurtful words he had heard Millicent fling at her. “You have no right!”

Ingrid seemed surprised by his anger. She dropped the article of Diantha's clothing she had been holding and cowered against the wall.

“Speak up!” he roared. “Tell me why you think you have the right to touch my wife's things!”

“She was doing it for me, Pa.” A child's frightened voice sliced through his anger and brought him to his senses.

Joshua had not realized that Agnes was directly behind him.

“Ingrid was going to cut down one of Ma's dresses for me if it was all right with you. We were going to ask your permission before we did anything.”

He turned around and his heart sank. Not only was Agnes directly behind him, but so was little Ellie. He saw Ellie's hand stealing into Agnes's while both of them stared at him with frightened eyes.

“I asked Ingrid to do it,” Agnes said. “My dresses are too little for me, and I didn't think you would care.”

Joshua's anger evaporated, leaving him empty and ashamed—but the scent of roses still swirled around him, tickling his senses, making him feel unsettled and disoriented.

“That doesn't excuse her for using your mother's perfume.”

“She didn't, Pa.” Agnes shook her head. “Trudy was playing with the bottle and she accidentally spilled some. The only thing Ingrid did was clean it up.”

Joshua could not meet Ingrid's eyes. He stumbled over his apology. “I—I'm sorry . . . I didn't realize.”

Ingrid hurriedly lifted the piles of folded clothing and stuffed them back inside the dresser drawer with trembling hands. She shoved the drawer closed and tried to pass by him in the doorway. He touched her arm to stop her. “Ingrid, I'm so sorry—”

“Please excuse.” She had her head down and did not look at him.

He stepped aside, as did the girls, and Ingrid walked right out of the cabin.

“Now see what you done?” Agnes complained. “We finally get some good help around here and you scare her off.”

Had he scared her off? She wouldn't leave, would she?

In all honesty, he wouldn't blame her if she did. Who would want to live with a man who went into a rage over a few items of clothing and some spilled perfume—especially a man who had been accused by some of killing his wife.

With shame, he remembered the cruel thing he had said to her. What he had called her was unforgivable.

It was the first time he had wished that Ingrid didn't have such a good grasp of the English language. He went to the front door and watched, helpless, as Ingrid walked toward the large woodlot that adjoined their farm, but unlike Diantha, who would sometimes spend hours walking alone in the deep woods, Ingrid stopped at the edge, hesitated, looked back at the cabin, and took a seat on a stump.

“You oughta at least go talk to Ingrid.” Agnes jabbed an elbow into his side as they stood there. “Go tell her you're sorry again. Sweet-talk her or something. Go on, Pa. We need her here bad.”

“Give me a minute or two, will you?” Impatience with his daughter rushed over him. His relationship with Ingrid was awkward enough without Agnes thinking it was her place to give him pointers.

“That woman makes the best biscuits I ever ate,” Agnes said. “We're sure gonna be in a sorry fix if she walks out on us, and then I'll
never
get me that new dress.”

“Would you quit talking like that?” Joshua said. “She's not your hired hand. I actually
married
the woman, for Pete's sake!”

“Then go on out there, Pa.” Agnes turned accusing eyes on him. “Go apologize. We need her.”

 8 

“Hello, the house!”

Ingrid heard a familiar voice, and her spirits lifted. It was Hazel. Never had she been so grateful for the appearance of another human being.

She-Wolf loped along, a self-appointed advance scout in front of the wagon that Hazel was driving. The dog came right up to where Ingrid sat on the stump and sat back on her haunches with her tongue lolling, and Ingrid could have sworn that the animal was grinning at her. Perhaps it was nothing more than Ingrid's desire to feel welcome, at least by something, but she was ridiculously grateful the animal seemed happy to see her.

Hazel drove the wagon over close to her. “Whoa!” She pulled back on the reins and from the high seat of her wagon looked down at Ingrid sitting at the edge of the forest.

“What are you doing way out here a-sitting on that stump in the middle of the day?” She sniffed the air. “And why do you smell like you've been smearing roses all over yourself?”

Ingrid shook her head in despair. There was so much she needed to say, and so much English required to say it. She grew tired of forever translating in her mind for these people.

“I cook. I clean. I try to find mother's dress to make dress for Agnes. Joshua get angry because I touch wife's precious clothes.” Her voice broke. “He yell at me.”

“Angry, huh.” Hazel's eyes narrowed. “He yelled at you? Well, I'll just have to go over there and show him what angry looks like!
Hi-yup
!”

With that, the old lady tore into the front yard of the cabin. The wagon had barely come to a stop before she leaped off. Ingrid saw Joshua walk outside and give her a quick glance. Right before she turned her back on him, she saw Hazel wagging her finger beneath Joshua's nose while she gave him what appeared to be a good talking to.

Ingrid, in spite of her hurt feelings, was delighted. If Hazel chose to chastise him, that was fine with her. Even though she was several yards away, she could hear the angry tone of Hazel's voice and Joshua's conciliatory tone in return.

A few minutes later, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him jam his hat on his head and stride toward her while the children and Hazel gathered together in the doorway. She pretended not to notice and feigned a great interest in pulling petals off of a daisy she had plucked from a clump growing next to the stump.

“It appears I have not yet apologized enough,” Joshua said when he was a couple feet away.

She kept her back to him and did not acknowledge his presence. She had scrubbed the man's dirty floor, washed his dirty dishes
and
his dirty underwear only that morning. He was not going to be forgiven so easily.

He walked around the stump so he could face her. “Will you please look at me?” he asked. “I'm trying to tell you that I'm very sorry.”

So, he wanted her to look at him, did he? Well, she would look at him! He was not the only one who was angry. She gave him the full force of her anger.

“I cook, cook, cook. Clean, clean, clean. I try to find dress for Agnes. She is young girl. She need pretty things!” She lowered her voice. “And you say mean things to me.”

“It was the perfume. For a second I thought Diantha was back.”

She sniffed. “I not want wife
parfym
! It stink.”

“I'm sorry. I overreacted.” He put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a small perfume vial.

“What? You bring to me? No!” Ingrid folded her arms across her chest and shook her head emphatically. “I not want.”

“I know.” He took the vial and flung it as hard and as high as he could.

She saw it glistening in the sun as it arched into the sky and then disappeared into the deep foliage of the forest.

She cocked her head. “Daughters not want?”

“My daughters might want it, but I need to get that scent out of the house. Obviously, it does bad things to me.” He tried to smile, but it was halfhearted. “It makes me say mean things to someone who has done nothing but ‘cook, cook, cook, and clean, clean, clean.' I did not mean the terrible things I said to you.” He held out his hand. “Hazel can stay with the children. Come take a walk with me.”

Ingrid took his hand and rose from the stump. He led her to an opening in the woods where there was the hint of a path.

“Diantha used to love to come here,” he said. “There was something about a forest that always calmed her. Her father's people were hunters, and she must have inherited some of that desire. Sometimes she would actually take my gun and kill game for our family.”

Ingrid was not in the mood to hear about what a wonderful outdoorswoman his wife had been. There was entirely too much to do. For one thing, the children needed to be fed supper and she was longing for a chance to visit with Hazel. A walk in the woods with a man who wanted to talk about his deceased wife was not part of her plan for the day.

“I have dough rising.” She pulled away. “Time to put in stove.”

To Joshua's surprise, Ingrid stalked away from him without so much as a backward glance. He took his hat off, scratched his head, and put it back on again. He put his hands in his pockets and took them back out. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now as Ingrid marched back to the house.

He had been a fool to start talking about Diantha. Even though he'd just been trying to make conversation and had said the first thing that popped into his mind, he didn't blame Ingrid for walking off like that. Who would have guessed that the immigrant girl who had been so eager to please would have that much spunk when she felt mistreated?

He walked back into the yard, intending to go into the cabin and wait for supper, until he saw that Ingrid, Hazel, and the four girls were huddled in a tight circle and Ingrid was talking and gesturing. It did not take a genius to figure out what she was talking about when she stopped and six pairs of disapproving female eyes trained themselves on him. Even She-Wolf appeared to be unhappy with him.

Who would have guessed that his daughters would take Ingrid's side so quickly? Weren't stepmothers supposed to be suspect? Wasn't there supposed to be a sort of probationary period before children accepted them into the home? He had expected to have to ease Ingrid into their lives. He had especially expected there to be problems between her and Agnes. Instead, in less than twenty-four hours, he felt like the outsider!

Girls were fickle creatures. All it had taken was some good cooking, a clean house, freshly laundered clothes, and the promise of new dresses for them to firmly take Ingrid's side.

It made him long to bring his little son home, if for no other reason than to have another male around. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was no reason he couldn't go get little Bertie now. Ingrid already had the house and children under control. It was reasonable for him to want to bring all his children back under one roof, and his girls had been begging for him to go get their little brother.

It would not be a pleasant task to confront his former in-laws, but the judge had said that if he had a wife, he could have his children. His in-laws didn't have a legal leg to stand on.

Besides that, going to get little Bertie seemed infinitely preferable to entering a cabin filled with irate females. He decided to take a detour to the Youngs' farm down the road before going in to supper. It would give everyone, including him, a chance to cool off.

“I brought you some supplies,” Hazel said. “With all these children, I figured you could use 'em.”

“George not mind?” Ingrid asked. The wagon was filled with interesting-looking bundles and boxes, and she couldn't wait to find out what Hazel had brought. It really had been stretching her abilities to come up with meals for the family with what Joshua had on hand.

“No.” Hazel grinned. “George didn't mind. Millicent may think she's got that man of hers wrapped around her little finger, but he does have a backbone. When I gave him the list I'd made out for you, his eyes practically bugged out of his head. He could hardly wait to fill it.”

“He know this is for us?” Ingrid asked.

“He did,” Hazel said. “He even stuck some candy in there for the children. It wasn't on my list, but George always has a soft spot in his heart for children. It's too bad he married a woman who couldn't carry a child full term. She lost two that I know of after they moved here.”

“Ingrid, look!” Agnes exclaimed. “A whole bolt of pink calico! And ribbons! You won't have to use my mama's clothes to make me a dress after all!”

“I do not think my husband has monies to pay,” Ingrid said.

“I'm quite sure that he doesn't.” Hazel laughed. “Actually, I'd be surprised if Josh has two cents to rub together until his cherry orchard comes in—if it ever does come in. He's pretty much invested every dime he has into those cherry trees. Lots of people wondering if it will pay off.”

“A cherry orchard is fine thing,” Ingrid said defensively.

“Absolutely,” Hazel said. “Actually, I owed Joshua for helping me build a fence around my pasture, but he wouldn't accept anything for it. I'm not a poor woman, in spite of the way I dress. My husband and I got here before the town ever got started. He had the good sense to put our name on the land where White Rock stands, and then he sold building lots to the people who wanted to move there. I owe Josh, and I can afford to pay him for his help, but I know he won't take money from me—and I was pretty certain you and the girls could use a little help.”

Ingrid bit her lip, considering. “For you I come work to pay back.”

“Nope. No need for that. Me and She-Wolf don't need any help.” She turned to her wolf-dog. “Do we, girl? But we do need some company from time to time. I'm fine, but She-Wolf tends to get lonesome. In fact, I was wondering if it would be an inconvenience if we spent the night here. It took me longer than I expected to get all this stuff loaded. By the time we get it unloaded and put away, it'll probably be dark. Especially since it appears like Joshua has decided to visit your neighbors instead of helping us unload.”